Lyrics:

Yeh, this one&ampapos;s for the workers who toil night and dayBy hand and by brain to earn your payWho for centuries long past for no more than your breadHave bled for your countries and counted your deadIn the factories and mills, in the shipyards and minesWe&ampapos;ve often been told to keep up with the timesFor our skills are not needed, they&ampapos;ve streamlined the jobAnd with sliderule and stopwatch our pride they have robbed[Chorus:]We&ampapos;re the first ones to starve, we&ampapos;re the first ones to dieThe first ones in line for that pie-in-the-skyAnd we&ampapos;re always the last when the cream is shared outFor the worker is working when the fat cat&ampapos;s aboutAnd when the sky darkens and the prospect is warWho&ampapos;s given a gun and then pushed to the foreAnd expected to die for the land of our birthThough we&ampapos;ve never owned one lousy handful of earth?[Chorus x3]And all of these things the worker has doneFrom tilling the fields to carrying the gunWe&ampapos;ve been yoked to the plough since time first beganAnd always expected to carry the can